


saving all my summers for you

by havisham



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Banter, Deepthroating, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Oral Sex, Sex Pollen, World War II
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-22
Updated: 2018-04-22
Packaged: 2019-04-22 04:10:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14300487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/havisham/pseuds/havisham
Summary: The war might have changed both Steve and Bucky inside and out, but there's still things they can't admit to each other, things that they can't do with each other. But an accidental exposure to failed HYDRA project might be just the thing for the truth to come out.





	saving all my summers for you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sourgold](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sourgold/gifts).



When Bucky came back to what he only half-jokingly referred to as the land of the living, he had a natural reluctance to talk about what he’d gone through and Steve seemed to respect that. At least, he said he respected that, though all the while he was obviously trying like hell to figure out what had happened to Bucky. 

Bucky knew that, like he _knew_ Steve. It didn’t matter about the flashy new body, like something conjured out of a comic book or a muscle man's wet dream, who Steve was inside hadn’t changed. 

At least, Bucky didn’t think he had. At least, Bucky thought, if Steve hadn't changed fundamentally, then it goes to reason that neither had he. After all, what HYDRA had done to him -- that was nothing compared to what the Army had done to Steve. Right? 

Right. Not that those things were comparable. Bucky was a loyal American soldier, after all. They weren't comparable. 

So. 

He knew from long experience that if he wanted to keep something from Steve, he had to be careful, he had to be smart. Because Steve? He was relentless and he was smart too, and he knew Bucky just as well as Bucky knew him. 

Like now. Steve had been eyeing the door for at least six minutes now, enough time for Bucky have a pretty good idea what he wanted to do. The Howling Commandos were good guys, all of them, but none of them ever met a pint of beer they didn’t like. Steve’s new body went through alcohol like it was water, and Steve had never been a big drinker anyway. 

So when Steve made the move, Bucky was ready. It was like being in an earthquake, sitting there as he stood up, power and strength in every line of his body. “Sorry, guys,” Steve said, not sounding particularly sorry at all. “It’s an early day tomorrow, so I think I’ll turn in.” 

“Really, Rogers? It’s not even ten-thirty yet and we’ve got a roof over our heads, drinks a-plenty, not like the stuff they sling us in London --” Dugan said, ignoring Falsworth’s indignantprotest. “You’re only young once, you know.” 

“Nah, Steve’s been an old man for as long as I’ve known him,” Bucky said, which earned him a glare from Steve and a clap on the back from Dugan. Bucky grinned up at Steve, a challenge in his eyes, but Steve only grumbled something about how the rest of them should follow his lead. He didn’t meet Bucky’s eye, but Bucky didn’t expect him to. 

It was wrong, probably, to feel this way about Steve, now, after all of this. Bucky reasoned that it was perfectly natural to notice that his childhood best friend had seemingly turned into an Adonis overnight (it wasn’t overnight, of course, it just felt that way.) 

There weren’t any pretty girls around and Bucky was a perfectly normal sort of guy with a perfectly normal set of eyes. He wondered if Steve had fucked that pretty Agent Carter yet. She'd been miles out of his league (out of Bucky’s league too, if he was being honest, with that crisp accent and mannerisms that spoke of money and privilege and a dangerous edge that was, of course, very attractive) -- but now, well, now Bucky thought Steve had a decent shot. If he didn't bungle it. 

_I gotta help him._ Bucky lurched up, his thoughts distinct. He wasn't drunk. Okay, so his steps wavered, but his mind was clear. “Heya, Steve,” he said, following his friend’s step, “wait for me.” 

“Sarge’s a lightweight too,” said Morita, which was so, so unfair. Bucky had had a head start on all of them. Surely that mattered, didn't it? Steve was waiting for him in the stairway, his face obscured by shadow. 

“Steve,” Bucky said, breathlessly. “I wanna talk.” 

“You do?” Steve said skeptically. “I know that look on you, Buck. You had that same look when you wanted to take Grace O’Malley to bed.” 

“You're so stupid, Steve, we didn't do it in bed -- wait, that's not what I wanted to talk to you about.” 

“Can't it wait until the morning? I am tired, Bucky.”

“You get tired with that big, beautiful body of yours? Could’ve fooled me.” 

“Not tired physically, maybe, but mentally? Sure. And don't call it -- _me -_ \- beautiful.” 

“I don't mean it in a queer way,” Bucky said dismissively. “It's just objective reality. Anyway, you got a smoke on you? I'm dying for it. Everything tastes like ashes in my mouth lately.” 

“... And you think smoking’s gonna fix that?” 

“Haha, you’re a wise guy, huh?” 

Steve rolled his eyes and flipped him a bird before handing his cigarette ration over. Bucky hooted in triumph, while manfully ignoring Steve’s weak attempt at being hard. It was ridiculous, anyway, now that he looked like the world’s biggest alterboy, apple-cheeked and pure. “Thanks for the cigs. Can’t smoke either, huh?” 

“Seems pointless, now,” Steve replied. 

“Yeah? I feel sorry for ya, Steve. All of life’s pleasures went down the drain for you, didn’t it?” Bucky lit up and eyed his friend speculatively. “Well. Maybe not all of them. Tell me, you fucked anyone since you changed?” 

Steve turned an interesting shade of purple. He grabbed Bucky’s lapels and jerked him closer. “Don’t talk like that!” 

“So that’s a no? What about that Agent Carter of yours? She’s some girl, that’s for sure. Like a pinup come to life.” 

“You’d say that in front of her?” 

“You think I’d want to die? Of course not.” 

“Not as dumb as you look, huh?” 

Bucky finished the rest of his cigarette in silence. “Asshole. So, if not Carter, then… Who? One of those showgirls Dugan was talking about before? You’ve been a busy boy, Rogers.” 

“It’s not like that. I have been busy, Bucky. Too busy for -- all that.” 

“That’s the saddest goddamn thing I’ve ever heard. Gonna die a virgin if you’re not careful, Rogers.” 

“Fuck off, Barnes.” 

“I could help you,” Bucky said. He didn’t know what possessed him to say it, except he did mean it. Steve was -- he was a good man, impossibly good, sometimes. And Bucky, well, he wasn’t -- he’d never been, and hadn’t minded it much. He was used to doing the dirty work, honestly, and it wasn’t like his chances of making it to the end of the war was looking good either. 

Taking pleasures where he could -- nothing wrong with that, was there? 

Steve was staring at him like he didn’t even know him, which hurt, frankly. “You wouldn’t do that,” he said, with a slight shake of his head. 

“Why not?” 

“ _I don't mean it in a queer way,_ ” Steve quoted back his words to him, with a roll of his eyes. “You could have any girl, Bucky, you don’t need someone like me to cramp your style. And this isn’t Brooklyn, you don’t need to scrounge around for a date for me.” 

“And this’d be the first time you’ve ever bothered listening to me, is it?” Bucky said, with an impatient click of his tongue. He moved closer to Steve, until there were only a few, tense inches between them. “Don’t overthink things, Steve. This doesn’t mean anything.” 

He was about to sink to his knees, to really get down to it, but Steve grabbed his arm and shook his head. “Not here,” he said urgently. 

“Your room or mine?” Bucky with a cocky grin. Steve glared at him and began to herd him towards his room. They were staying at an old French farmhouse, one that felt old and worn away, like the sheer weight of the centuries had piled up on top of it. A lot of places in Europe felt like that, and Bucky wasn't sure if he liked it or not. 

Mostly, he missed home. He wondered if he'd ever be able to go back. “You miss it?” he asked Steve, who looked at him inquisitively. 

“Miss what?” 

“Home. Brooklyn. You think we'll ever get back there?” 

“Sure. Your ma and dad’ll expect it, won't they?” 

Shit. Bucky hadn't written to his folks since long before he had gotten captured. Steve had told him that he had written to them to inform them of their son’s safety. But really, Steve shouldn’t have had to do that. 

“Shit, I'm a bad son.” 

Steve smiled at him, like they were going for a friendly little walk instead of marching off to his bedroom with the express intention of divesting Steve of his pesky virginity. 

“I don't see you disagreeing, Steve.” 

“It's because I'm not,” Steve said. 

“Mean bastard, the least you could do is say I'm not.”

“Don’t make me a liar.” 

They didn't get a chance to do much of anything after that -- a call came in through the line -- there was a newly discovered HYDRA base fifty miles to the south and they were off again on a merry chase, all thoughts of rest and recreation pushed back until another time. 

*

Bucky _hated_ HYDRA.

Of course, ask any guy in the unit, they’d say the same thing, but for Bucky it was so personal that he couldn’t even articulate it, not even to Steve, especially not to Steve. Bucky knew that their experiences couldn’t be compared -- Steve had volunteered to be Erskine’s test subject, had known more about the risks of the experiment than not, but as the dull roar of the airplane numbed his senses, Bucky wondered how Steve could stand it, to have his body transformed like that. 

The rumor in the HYDRA facility had been that no one survived Zola’s experiments and when it had been Bucky’s turn under the needle, he’d fully expected to die too. But he hadn’t. Instead, he’d been cracked wide open and been splayed out, for all to see. If he’d known any secrets, he would’ve told them, told them anything to make the pain stop. Even now, with that particular facility blown to Kingdom Come and Zola safely in custody, Bucky still felt the raw panic well up in his throat sometimes, when they closed in on another HYDRA base. 

They were all designed the same way -- the same halls, the same cells, and it seemed, the same dead men in those cells. Bucky had to get in control of his emotions fairly quickly. Steve wouldn’t have any use for a sniper whose hands shook. 

The facility they were raiding today had been just abandoned before they’d gotten there -- the cups of coffee resting on the table in the guardroom were still warm. They split off into groups, sweeping through the grounds and documenting and then destroying everything they found.

Steve was the lead and Bucky was at his back when they broke into the lab. Immediately, Bucky knew something was wrong, even though he couldn’t quite put a finger on what. Steve didn’t seem to feel it, though he made his way cautiously towards the middle of the room. 

“Hey, Steve --” Bucky began to say when Steve turned to look at him and something dropped down on them and sprayed them with something that smelled like the worst, most cheap perfume Bucky had ever had the misfortune to have experienced. It dissipated quickly, leaving just a suggestion of yellow in the air. 

“Shit!” Bucky had gotten a face full of it, and between trying to breathe but not breathe it in, and wondering if the stuff was blinding, he sought out Steve, who seemed to be having the same problem. 

 

“You okay? Can you see?” Steve asked him. 

“Ugh. Yeah. I'm okay. You?” Bucky shuddered, wiping his face off. “What is this stuff?” 

“Not sure,” Steve said, “but if you're fine, we’ll get out of here.”

They took a sample for Stark to look over and rejoined the rest of the group. As soon as the all-clear sounded, yet another HYDRA base bit the dust. 

*

There was a itch somewhere on his body that Bucky couldn't seem to scratch. He could barely sit still during the debrief, his feet tapping impatiently as Colonel Phillips went on and on. “You got some place to be, son?” said the colonel just as Bucky’s attention gave way completely. 

“Not at this time, sir,” Bucky said quickly. 

“Hot date tonight, Barnes?” said Dugan with an exaggerated wink. 

“With his fist, maybe,” said Morita, which brought a laugh. 

“As I was saying before you chuckleheads interrupted,” Colonel Phillips said loudly, and the debrief crawled on from there. The next time Bucky dared lift his head from his paperwork, he noticed that Steve was staring at him. Bucky met his stare with one of his own and quirked an eyebrow questioningly. But all Steve did was turn red and busied himself with his paperwork, leaving Bucky slightly bemused. 

After the debrief and all other paperwork that they'd had to do -- Bucky wouldn’t have guessed, before, that war could mean so much paperwork -- he ran into Steve outside, heading to dinner. If Steve had been acting a little odd before, he was acting very strangely now. 

He grabbed Bucky by the shoulder and said, his face very red, “Bucky, I have a problem. Please help me.” 

“Yeah, of course. What's wrong?” At once, Bucky’s mind was filled with a dozen scenarios, each more dire than the other. Steve was dying. His transformation had begun to reverse. The war was over and they hadn't punched Hitler for real. 

Steve took a quick look around and shook his head. “Not here. Come to my room.” 

“Right now?” 

“No, in the morning. Of course now, Bucky!” 

“Okay, okay, geez, I was just asking since we'd be skipping dinner…” 

*

A few minutes later, Bucky took a step back and whistled. “Okay, I gotta admit, that is a _sizable_ erection. I guess you got bigger everywhere, huh?” 

“Bucky. Why is this happening.” Steve was clutching at his pants, looking more red than Bucky had ever seen him. Honestly, the whole situation was absurd and Bucky would definitely have laughed his head off if he wasn't fairly certain that Steve would knock his head off in retaliation. 

“You know about the birds and the bees, right?” Bucky said with a chuckle. “I mean, I don't have to tell you?” 

“I feel. Something’s wrong. I've felt off since we got off that base.” 

“Wait. When we were sprayed with something? Why didn't you say anything until now?” 

“I thought it would go away on its own…” 

“Steve, you idiot, that's why you were sick for so long. You gotta let me help you.” Bucky came closer and got on his knees, to examine Steve’s erection at a closer range. He began to palm his own crotch, feeling himself harden just watching Steve. It was ridiculous, like he was thirteen again and anything could set him off, from flutter of a girl’s skirt or a stiff breeze. 

“Can’t say much for your pillow talk, Buck,” Steve said and there was a sparkle in his eye that made something in Bucky unwind. He grinned back, and knew that things were going to get interesting from here. 

“What do you think this is -- some kind of -- a sex drug --” Steve bent down and kissed him. The taste was slick and a little bitter and Bucky had never wanted anything more. The feeling seem to be building, growing as he touched Steve and Steve touched him. 

“Steve, I don’t want you to -- do this if you don’t want to --” Bucky gasped out. He pushed away from Steve and tried to stand, even though his legs felt weak under him. He could make it, he was pretty sure, to the showers and crank something out. Maybe find someone else, if his hand wasn’t enough. 

He must’ve said that aloud, because Steve shook his head, vigorous. “No, Buck, I’ve always -- wanted you. But you were always --” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Bucky said, “Steve, I know. I wish we could talk about --” 

“You do?” 

“No. Please, let’s just --” Steve kissed him again, sloppy and affectionate and unpracticed and Bucky felt a surge of emotion that would’ve knocked him off his feet anyway. He’d always known that he loved Steve, but for the longest time, he thought that that love was purely platonic. Steve was family. Steve was home. And he was. But Steve was also -- fucking beautiful and Bucky wanted him, simply and without qualifications. 

“I want to suck you,” Bucky said, his voice sounding rough even to his own ears. “Is that what you want?” 

“Yeah --” Steve cut himself as soon as Bucky’s lips touched him, his words dying into a surprised gasp. Steve was so modest and self-effacing that Bucky had assumed that he would be that way during sex too, but that turned out not to be the case. He grasped the back of Bucky’s head and pulled him forward and Bucky took him in deeper, until his lips were brushing against wiry pubic hair. 

There was a feeling, burning at the pit of Bucky’s stomach, that if he could, he would swallow it all up, everything that Steve had to give him. This kind of feeling wasn’t normal, he knew. With his other lovers, his first impulse was to make sure they enjoyed themselves, enjoyed being with him. But Steve? It wasn’t just that. He wanted Steve to love him. And the fact that he knew that Steve already did, didn’t seem to matter so much. 

“Bucky, are you okay?” Steve pulled away from him, lifting up Bucky’s face so he could look at him closely. “You look strange.” 

“I don’t --” Bucky wiped his mouth clean and had to debate briefly if he would spit or swallow. He opted for the latter before saying, “Don’t know how to break it to you, Steve, but most people don’t look normal with a cock in their mouths.” 

“Smartass.” Steve smiled and pulled Bucky up to him, as easily as if he’d weighed nothing at all. It was a little disconcerting, to see Steve being able to do that, use that incredible strength like it was nothing. Bucky would’ve thought more about it, except Steve was kissing him and that was incredibly distracting. 

Steve kissed him like his life depended on it, like he’d never have a chance to do it again and that was -- well, that was right, wasn’t it? Who knew if they’d ever be able to touch each other like this again. It was hard not to get caught up in melancholy, even as he felt like if Steve didn’t touch him, if he didn’t fuck him, Bucky would explode and be blown away, all in a single instant. 

Some of that feeling must’ve shown in his face, because Steve knew it and embraced him. Without asking, he reached under Bucky’s waistband and began to palm his cock. Bucky bit his lip and muttered, “You don’t have to.” 

“Shh. You wanna be heard?” There was a definite look of mischief in Steve’s eye. 

“Maybe,” Bucky said, playing up his natural impulse for bravado. Then he sobered up. “Shit, of course not. Can you imagine what would happen then?” 

“Not really what I want to imagine when I’m in the middle of all this,” Steve said with a wry twist of his mouth. 

“Let me get you off again so you can go and do whatever you do at nights. Rescue kittens? Write poetry? I don’t think you sleep, do you?” 

“Well, you don’t either, do you?” 

Shit. Bucky hadn’t known that Steve had known about that. Nights were the worst times for him, when his memories would close in and with a blink of an eye he would be back there, strapped to Zola’s table. It was fucking Zola’s fault he was here now, sitting on his best friend’s lap like it was the most natural thing in the world and it made him angry and, oddly, confusingly, grateful. 

“Shit. Let’s get it over with, then,” Bucky said. 

He ignored Steve’s exasperated “Bucky, come on,” and slid back down until his head was on Steve’s lap. Steve was as hard as ever and Bucky wondered why he hadn’t complained this entire time. Was it that he didn’t want to be impolite or that his powers made it possible for him to ignore this rather urgent problem. 

Steve came into his mouth a few moments later and Bucky swallowed before he could stop him. And he didn’t stop Steve when, with a stubborn look in his eye, insisted on return the favor. The night seemed to melt into the morning and when it was time to get up, Bucky was still sprawled on Steve’s bed, sticky with come and sore in a lot of places. 

“Should we do this again?” he asked, before he noticed that Steve had been pretty quiet for the last few minutes. When he looked over, he saw that his friend was fast asleep, his arms tucked over his head, like he was a little kid. Asleep, he looked a lot more like the boy Bucky had grown up with than he did during waking hours. Bucky kind of wished that he could just stay here and watch Steve sleep like that. It was almost better than sleeping himself. 

But the ticking of his watch persisted and he did have places to be. So he got up and cleaned himself up as best as he could, then dressed. After a moment of hesitation, he put Steve in a more comfortable position, hoping that he didn’t wake him up in the process. Steve twitched and moaned, but he didn’t wake up. 

*

The morning was bright and lovely and Bucky whistled as he made his way to the mess breakfast. On his way there, he met up with Stark, who seemed to be looking for someone. He stopped Bucky and waved. “Hey, Barnes! You seen Rogers?” 

“Not since last night. What’s up?” 

“I want to talk to him about that sample he gave me -- from that HYDRA facility you two blew up a few days ago -- pretty interesting stuff.” 

“Yeah. It was some kind of nerve agent, seemed like.” 

“More like an aphrodisiac. A spritz of that stuff could bring down a whole squad of soldiers. Say, have you two felt anything --” 

“Nope.” Bucky began to walk towards the coffee station. Stark followed him, looking a little suspicious. 

“What, not even a slight twinge down there?” 

“Don’t know what to tell ya, Howie.” 

“No. Don’t call me that. You two were exposed to enough of that stuff to take down an elephant, according to Zola’s notes and you’re telling me you two didn’t feel anything?” 

“Not a thing, Mr. Stark,” Bucky said with a yawn. “I’m not saying nothing happened. Looks like Steve overslept today, and he usually doesn’t.” 

“Well… Hey, speak of the devil!” Stark’s bright, curious gaze was off him, and Bucky allowed himself a measure of relief. Steve jogged up to them with a genial hello. He looked as bright and handsome as he always did now, which made Bucky feel even more like he was something that had been left out overnight. 

“Slept well, Steve?” Bucky said. 

“Like a baby,” Steve said and Bucky nodded. 

Well, that was all right, then. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to my beta, sath! 
> 
> Title from Marina & the Diamonds.


End file.
